Be Careful What You Wish For
by Dr. Seth
Summary: What is Jenny and why? These are questions she would rather not think about but that keep cropping up when she least wants to face them...Thanks to those who submitted reviews! And please note the rating changed due to sex and violence!
1. Chapter 1

_I thought I would have something more interesting to say in the intro, but here I am unable to really put anything together…So, this came from me asking "what if?" questions about characters that are often ignored and again trying to bring a touch more of realism to a TV show that I felt had a lot of potential that got squandered for the sake of kids-friendly ratings. Reviews are really appreciated—I haven't been writing for a long time. _

Jenny clambered up onto the ledge and squinted against the wind, glaring at the glittering lights of New Tronic. She reached down under the overhang and pawed at the pack of Lucky Strikes she had hidden away. She liked to smoke only occasionally; it took the piss out of a wicked day, and today there had been a fuck-up during a conference call to China and she and Donovan had taken a couple of the techies to task over _that _little snafu. The little hiccup in the system shut down talks about the new encoding system for a good twenty minutes, backing up the rest of the day's events like cars piling up on the highway. And what a bloody wreck it had been! Meetings, discussions, reviews, even lunch, backed up, postponed or canceled all together. Of course, she was the only one who could pull it all back together, and she was sick of the phone calls, the shuffling, the incompetence!

Jenny lit the cigarette and pulled the bitter smoke into her tiny lungs. She only smoked on the roof not because it was a secret, really, just that if she dared light up in front of any of those…well, those humans, they would all point and laugh at the smoking monkey. All of their little TV show fantasies would become so cutely real and they would ooh and ah and Jenny would have to claw her way up the Sisyphean mountain of respect once more.

She sat on the cold concrete, tail curling and uncurling around her feet, staring into the shimmering darkness and letting the day's frustration seep out in ribbons of grey-blue when she felt that prickling electric sensation she got around advanced technology. Glancing around, she saw the shape of that kid, a black cut out against the city's lights. He blinked his photoelectric blue eyes, realizing she had seen him.

"Hey, kid," she said, blowing smoke through her nose. "What ya doin' out here?"

"Just thinking," he answered. He walked over to her and stood under the single light looking out in the same direction she had been looking earlier. Did he want to talk? It was hard to tell. He had gotten unpredictable over the years.

"Whatcha thinkin' 'bout?"

He was silent for a while.

"'Bout people," he finally answered.

"Anyone in particular?"

He shook his head.

"Yeah, I do that too, sometimes. People are weird, huh?" she said.

"People are all sorts of things. They're happy and sad, good and bad. Mostly they're confused, maybe. Maybe…" His voice trailed off, questioning his own thoughts and theories. "I think about people all the time," he said starting up again. "People go through life wondering what their purpose is. They don't know where they're going or why they exist, they just have to keep living. They don't even know if they're made, or if they're just accidents. I'm glad that I know what my purpose is; I couldn't stand to have to find out the hard way. And it's good that we both know who made us; it would suck to be an accident."

What a mouthful. Jenny blew out a long stream of smoke that caught in the wind immediately.

"Your brain's outgrown your body, huh, kid?" But even as she said it, her mouth clicked shut so fast she could hear her teeth snap together. He looked at her, head cocked to the side a bit in an imitation of a questioning human and she realized that he hadn't been a kid for a long time. Sure, he still looked like a little boy (little boy _robot_) but if he had been allowed to grow over the years he would probably look like a young adult. And Rusty learned fast; maybe he was even more grown up inside than he would be in human years. He had turned a little strange as the years went on, especially right after his "childhood". He was as boisterous and curious as any child left to run amok in a super-advanced robot factory, as excited as any kid getting to blast real aliens with a real laser instead of watching them on the screen at the Palladium's Saturday Matinee Double Monster Feature.

And then he got quiet. He stopped asking so many questions, stopped cruising the halls to talk to Jones from Department 14 or Putnam from Math Planning Division. He was downright spooky the way he would just stay perfectly still and absorb, just like how Jenny found him on the roof, motionless and observant.

And the whole seeing chemicals thing—that was a little creepy. But, really, was that any different from the way Jenny smelled humans and used her instincts to predict their behaviour? And hadn't she outgrown her own body many, many years ago? She especially felt that way recently; her fur had been graying for a while, but the aches in her bones had been creeping deeper and deeper, her muscles stiffening up. No matter how her mind worked, she was still just a little monkey with a little monkey lifespan, which was quickly coming to an end. It pained her a bit to find this strange camaraderie in Rusty, someone (some_thing_) that was essentially a product. A product…Wasn't that was she was? Was it? She often wondered. When she had worked up the guts to ask Donovan why he had made her, he had simply answered, "Because I wanted to!" and then laughed like a madman. He brayed and guffawed until she crawled away feeling small, powerless and owned. She lit a fresh cigarette with the butt of the old one and sucked hard on it.

"What're _you_ doing up here? Why aren't you with Dr. Donovan?" Rusty asked.

"We're not joined at the hip, y'know. Sometimes I need some time to myself."

"Oh."

Jenny resumed staring out at the city, trying to ignore the bitterness and resentment crawling it's way up her throat. She felt kind of bad ignoring the kid (adult)(thing)(maybe) but she didn't like the way the conversation had turned to everything she wanted to forget. Maybe Rusty sensed this or maybe he just withdrew into himself again because he got quiet and stared out at the city's false stars again.


	2. Chapter 2

Rusty had been lying the night before when he told Jenny he wasn't thinking about anyone in particular. Of course he was. It was mid-October, and soon it would be Halloween, and around this time of year, his mind frequently (if not automatically) turned to thoughts of his friend (ex-friend?) Jeffy, who now liked to be called Jeff.

It was a dusky, crisply autumn Halloween the last time Rusty had seen him. Rusty was 10 going on 10 (again!) and Jeff had just turned 13 that summer. Dr. Slate had gotten really creative with his costume that year, even welding parts of it on. How stupid he must have always seemed-- a little machine playing dress-up! --but this had been ages ago, before he became so agonizingly self-conscious. He wondered why Mrs. Darlene seemed a bit concerned when she let him in the house, but he didn't let it bother him and went straightaway to Jeffy's room.

Jeff was huddled on his bed, a small circle of friends scattered on the floor. Some of his friends were girls. None of them were in costume, except for one kid who had bones on the sleeves of his sweatshirt and a dog collar around his neck.

"Hey, Jeffy! Are we all goin' trick-or-treating?" he asked. Jeff just shifted uncomfortably, his eyes shuffling back and forth across the room, scanning his friend's confused expressions. Rusty never really got along very well with other kids because they didn't quite understand him, but of course Jeffy did. Jeffy understood because Lt. Duane had explained everything. They had been pals for forever, so Rusty was a little surprised when Jeff swept him out of the room and into the hallway. Although he closed the door, Rusty heard the other kids scramble to press up against it to listen in.

"Don't your friends got costumes?" Rusty looked at Jeffy, brimming with excitement, eager to go door-to-door collecting candy. Jeff, who now stood over him by at least a foot due to a swift growth spurt that summer, just glared down at him.

"No, we don't got costumes. That's baby stuff. Look," He huffed, blowing his blonde bangs up from his forehead. "We're not going out, ok? I just want to hang out with my friends—"

"Okay! It'd be great to meet all your friends!"

"I don't want you to meet my friends. I don't want you hanging around here, okay? This is really weird, okay? You're a robot, okay? You're…not like us, and, like, I was just being friends with you as a favor, but…"

Maybe Jeff kept on talking, but Rusty couldn't hear any more. He smiled amicably enough as he was escorted out of the house and left on the doorstep. Mrs. Darlene filled the doorframe as he stood there stupidly, and over her shoulder he could see Jeff jogging up the stairs back into his room. She dropped a piece of pity candy into his plastic jack-o-lantern, where it made a lonely clunking sound, and maybe offered an apology before closing the door. He turned and stared at the children in their costumes drifting from lighted porch to lighted porch, feeling very far away. Suddenly, a father and son trick-or-treat team stepped onto Mrs. Darlene's walkway. The father was dressed as Big Guy, the son was dressed as Rusty. Rusty's grin had frozen on his face; his circuits were overloading a bit. He saw a train of 1's and 0's flash by, letting him know where the damage had been done and even though it was logical and pure, his mind was slippery with emotion and it didn't register immediately.

"Wow, Dad! What's that?" The son shrieked, pointing at Rusty. Suddenly Rusty didn't want to be friendly, didn't want to talk about his life or his job or his existence. Without thought, he slipped up into the night sky and into the dark, leaving the father and son bewildered as they followed his trail upwards.

He drifted for a while in the upper atmosphere, scanning the dots of light that represented cities thinking that he had hurt a human, he had embarrassed a human deeply just by existing, just by wanting to be friends. He thought about that story someone had told him once about the people in the jungle who ate an apple and figured out they were naked and got all embarrassed. How could they not have known they were naked? How could Rusty not have known how people felt?

He didn't leave the empty comforts of space until his internal clock told him that it was around the time he had promised Dr. Slate he would be home. She had been letting him power down by himself for a while, and he was grateful the lab was empty. After wrenching the "costume" from his body, he stared at the pieces of twisted metal that Dr. Slate had fashioned for him like one stares at an overgrown tumor that's been removed. A few more circuits popped as he reeled through the last few years thinking of all of the times he had embarrassed people, of all of the times he had inconvenienced humans just by wanting them, forcing them to be his friend. He felt a strain behind his eyes, but it was all part of Dr. Slate's great plan; robots didn't cry, they fried. Rusty didn't feel physical pain, but boy did he feel emotional pain.

The next morning, he powered up before Dr. Slate arrived. Sooner or later she would notice his fried circuits, but for now, he wouldn't have to tell her. It didn't matter, because later he heard her having a conversation on the phone with Lt. Duane. Rusty knew he was calling to tell her that Mrs. Darlene had called to tell him what had happened. Now even more people were mortified! When she hung up the phone, she came into his room. He was afraid he would have to explain everything, to have to give voice to the terrible revelation he had had (and a part of him, the part of him that wanted to be 10 forever, really wished she would tell him it was all ok, that everything would be fine) but she just stared at him, her large hazel-brown eyes swimming with sorrow and understanding. And there he went again! There he went hurting another person he cared about! Geez! Why couldn't he keep to himself? He should know better!

He should've known better, but sometimes, you need an alarm to jolt you out of a deep sleep. Ever since that night, Rusty had kept to himself. Everyone was much more at peace; no more worrying about that stupid little robot running around pestering people. Even though over the years Dr. Slate had loosened his Three Laws (he was such a _good_ boy robot) he still didn't ever want to hurt a human being, not physically, not emotionally, and he realized just how very easy it was for him to do both.

Now he sat in his room and let his mind latch onto the wi-fi system that floated in the electronic air. Rusty overheard Lt. Duane mentioning to Dr. Slate the last time they talked that Jeff had been invited to a Sadie Hawkins dance that Saturday. Rusty snatched information—What was it? Who was Sadie Hawkins? What do you do at a Sadie Hawkins dance?—and tried to imagine what it would be like to go. Even if it hurt him to think that he would never really know what it was like, it was better than hurting others with his persistent questions, his yearning for inclusion.

He put one ear on the lab as he heard the main door open. He heard Dr. Slate's chair creaking as she turned. A grating, unctuous voice sliced through the lab's tranquility.

"Sugarpop…"


	3. Chapter 3

"—I need you to do your duty at the Quark Halloween Extravaganza this year." Donovan slid up beside Dr. Slate. She just blinked her tired eyes up at him from her chair.

"Ok," she said. She knew the routine, and plus, it was a lot less hassle to just give in to Donovan than try to fight him. He was harmless, just wanted to show off his little top earner as arm candy at a stupid company function. Sure, she'd rebuke his piggish comments all night and slap him if he tried to pinch her ass like at that Christmas party, but it was all over in a few hours anyway.

"That's a good girl," he said. Jenny was hunched on his shoulder like always, but she remained silent for now. "What've you got for me today?"

"Oh, nothing really special. Just reconfiguring the G38 chip," Dr. Slate said.

"Gonna have a G39 lined up for me next quarter?"

"Well, I'm not sure that—"

"Fantastic." Donovan's lips slid apart in a grin. "That'd be a great conversation topic at the party. I'll have Jenny send you all the details for meeting up in an e-mail. I'm sure that sexy costume you're going to buy is going to look just great on you." Dr. Slate sighed and pushed her glasses up the bridge of her nose while Donovan indulged in a lecherous chuckle. "Well, I'd love to stay and chew the fat but I've got to tour the facilities, make sure all the pistons are firing here in this grand old machine."  
_Whatever just get the hell out of my lab_, is what Dr. Slate wanted to say, but instead she settled for another tired "Ok."

Jenny hopped onto Erika's desk.

"You're not coming?" he asked.

"Nah, I'm gonna stay and chew some fat," Jenny said. Donovan shrugged.

"Suit yourself." He strode out of the glass doors, surprising a hapless mathematician in the hallway. Their voices faded out, Donovan relentlessly grilling him and asking questions, the mathematician stammering out hesitant answers. Dr. Slate turned to look at Jenny.

"So, you caved in to the fat bastard again?" Jenny asked.

"It's just…easier this way."

"Erika, I know you hate these things, and I know you especially hate going with Lard-O."

"Mm."

"So why do you do it?"

Erika squarely looked at Jenny.

"It's just easier not to struggle against the inevitable. It's really not that big of deal, just a couple of hours at another company function and at least a few days of peace of mind."

"Isn't there someone else you want to go with?" Jenny nimbly padded across Erika's desk. Erika tried to ignore Jenny by going back to fiddling with the intricate circuitry in front of her. "How's about I do you a solid, hmm? I bet I owe you one from somewhere down the line, huh?"  
"What do you mean?"

"How about I call Lt. Hunter. Ask him to be _my_ date to the ball, huh? Then he could be there, too. Maybe you guys could make a break for it after Dumbo fills up on martinis."

For a moment a look crossed Erika's face that seemed to say _You would do that for me?_ but she pursed her lips and turned back to her work.

"Lt. Hunter doesn't have many opportunities for furlough, and I don't think he needs to waste his time coming to a Quark party."

Jenny cocked her eyebrow.

"Aw, can the bullshit. Don't you want him to see you all dressed up and pretty?" No answer, but a slight blush was creeping under her hairline. Jenny snatched up the cordless phone with her left foot and dialed the Dark Horse with her tail. Erika glared and made a feeble attempt to take the phone from her, but that was all.

"Yeah, Quark Industries, connect me to the Dark Horse please…Thanks." Jenny smirked at Erika as the call went through. "Is Lt. Hunter there? Well, go get him…Yeah, hi, it's Jenny. Jenny the talking monkey. Right. Look, there's a shindig down at Quark around next week so I was calling to see if you'd dust off your monkey suit and escort me. Donovan ditched me for ol' four eyes, so I need me a date." She waited while it registered, staring directly into Erika's eyes. "Ok, I'll send you an e-mail, then. Thanks a bunch." She hung up. "See, Erika? He'd even go out in public with a hairy little beastie just to spend a few hours in the same room as you." Erika didn't reply. Her mouth was a straight line, and there was a bit of shame in her eyes. "Let me tell you something, Erika. We've been friends for a long time now, huh? You're probably the only friend I really got." Jenny took a deep breath.

"If I had your body, I'd know what to do with good ol' Duane."

"E-Excuse me?" Erika stammered.

"You heard me."

Erika didn't like the serious look etched into Jenny's small leathery face. A plumy blush stained Erika's cheeks as they sat in silence, letting the words hang in the air. Jenny felt a little embarrassed, but she had meant every single word.

"Seriously, Erika- don't you have urges?"  
"Excuse me?" Erika squeaked.

"You've known Duane for years. You'd have to be blind—and maybe crazy—not to like that guy. Maybe I got a taste for hairless pinkies from being around humans so long, but he'd be…he'd be good for you. Get you out of this lab, maybe get you to live a little!"

Erika was a statue, motionless and silent, her eyes locked with Jenny's.

"That would be most unprofessional. We work together, after all. Sometimes our lives depend on each other. We can't let feelings get in the way of things."

"Are you serious?" Jenny asked. Erika didn't answer; she just let the silence continue. For a hateful moment, Jenny cursed her in her mind, called her a prudish nerd, a stuck-up little geek in dire need of a pair of non-sensible shoes and a good solid lay, but then it abided. Jenny was trapped, and Erika could live her life the way she wanted and if it was her choice to be alone and scared of some guy, well, then, let her end up in a nursing home drooling on her jammies alone with her unfulfilled dreams.

"So, uh, we're still doing lunch tomorrow, right?" Jenny smiled warily. Her friend, her only friend, nodded. She felt relief spread in her gut, glad she hadn't ruined a good thing but also glad she had cleared the air. "Ok, well, I'll see you then." Jenny hopped off the table and headed out of the glass doors.


	4. Chapter 4

Rusty heard Jenny leave the lab. He rarely got to speak with her (with last night being an exception) even though she and Dr. Slate spoke all of the time. Jenny was a good friend to Dr. Slate; so good, in fact, she had done her a very nice favor by inviting Lt. Duane to the party. Maybe he and Dr. Slate would hang out together. He knew she wanted to, and even Jenny had called her out on it. Rusty wondered if it really was a "professional" reason they didn't hang out. But maybe it was true that Lt. Duane really couldn't get furloughs very often.

Rusty liked Lt. Duane more than anyone else in the world (except for Dr. Slate). Lt. Duane was always straight with him, and even though he hadn't liked Rusty very much in the beginning, Rusty could tell that Lt. Duane didn't mind him so much nowadays. Sometimes he even took the time to talk to Rusty and listen carefully to him instead of ignoring him. Like right after that Halloween. He had used up a furlough to come in to Dr.Slate's lab. Rusty didn't really want to see anybody anymore, especially not Lt. Duane. He was probably inconvenienced, just like Mrs. Darlene and Jeff had been. Lt. Duane didn't start talking right away, he just sat in Rusty's room, looking around at the toys that Rusty had left in various corners and on shelves. Rusty felt so ashamed that Lt. Duane felt he needed to come all the way into town just to drive home the point that Jeff and Mrs. Darlene didn't want anything to do with him anymore. Lt. Duane should just use his free time to go eat foot long hot dogs and papaya milkshakes at Slammer Bango's or talk to Dr. Slate or do both, not explain to Rusty that terrible truth that he already knew. When he did speak, he didn't make excuses, or try to sugar coat the situation, he was open and honest with him, something that Rusty was deeply, profoundly grateful for.

"Rusty, life isn't fair," he said. "Everyone's got to find out sooner or later. We all make our way as best we can, so I don't want you to dwell on anything. Just remember all the good times you had with Jeff and…and try to move on."

"But what am I---"

"How are you going to get along without him?" Lt. Duane smiled in his lopsided way. "You can't roller skate in a buffalo herd."

"What?"

"You know that song? You can't roller skate in a buffalo herd, but you can be happy if you put your mind to it. You just have to look for the good things, even if they're so small they hardly seem like much of anything at all. Sometimes I get happy just chewing a piece of banana-flavored gum. Sometimes it's so hard to find something that I'm happy about that I get happy chewing a piece of banana-flavored gum, which is really ridiculous when you think about it, but if that's what it takes, then, that's what it takes."

"But—Jeffy was my _only friend_…"

"I bet it feels that way. Sometimes when you're really lonely, really feeling alone, that's when you have to be your own best friend. Maybe you just need something like a hobby to distract you from things…You know," Lt. Duane picked up a video game controller, "you could probably make a pretty good video game."

"Make one? What do you mean?" Rusty cocked his head to the side.

"You're a hundred if not a thousand times more advanced than this system. You've got everything inside of you to make all sorts of cool things. Hell, Big Guy could be the world's biggest Ipod if I just rigged him up that way. Maybe you could make a video game, maybe even sell it if you wanted."

"Really?"

Lt. Duane nodded. "Of course. And if you get bored, there are plenty of other things to do. I'm stuck on the ship all the time, so to pass the time I read. I'm sure reading is pretty boring for you, huh? You could scan a book right through in a couple of minutes if you wanted, and it's probably annoying to dumb yourself down to human level."

"Yeah…" Rusty admitted.

"You could probably link right up to the internet if you wanted."

"Dr. Slate said that she has to monitor my web surfing…" Rusty said.

"Maybe. You know right from wrong, Rusty. There are a lot of ideas out there, a lot of bad ideas, but you know better." Rusty was frozen with gratitude. He could barely manage a smile. "Do you wanna come back with me to the ship? I'm sure I could get Jo and Garth to agree on a little football action."

"I guess…" Rusty was hesitant only because of his fear of inconveniencing Lt. Duane. When he asked him to come play football on the ship at that moment, it wasn't the nervous distraction tactics that Dr. Slate had tried earlier by encouraging him to play games or draw, but a simple offer from a friend. He seemed so genuine, and Rusty sure liked him a whole lot. Rusty hoped deep inside that Lt. Duane thought of him as a friend, too, and not just some annoying talking machine like an overgrown tamagotchi that needed to have his buttons pressed all the time. Sometimes he wanted to call Lt. Duane big brother, but that would be taking it too far…Robots didn't have families, after all. As badly as he wanted to call Dr. Slate mom sometimes, he could never do that either. He eventually found out for himself where babies came from; robots were just pieced together and sent out to do a function, with no romance or uncertainty. Dr. Slate was his maker, his inventor, his creator; never, ever his mother. Or so he felt.

He overheard Lt. Duane and Dr. Slate arguing about him and his emotions later that same day. Lt. Duane had always had the opinion that emotions and weapons were a bad combination, and Dr. Slate always had to argue that Rusty hadn't come out the way she intended. Although it hurt to hear them talking like that, Rusty felt the same way; sometimes he wanted to just be switched off, to just be like Big Guy: a robot doing a job. Dr. Slate never would let him, though. But, during that argument, Dr. Slate had said something very strange; she asked Lt. Duane if he ever shut off, if he found it difficult to be a weapon with emotions. Lt. Duane asked her not to start that again, that they had promised. Promised what? Of course he couldn't ask because he wasn't supposed to have heard that conversation, but he still wondered…


	5. Chapter 5

"Dammit!"

Jenny rolled her eyes. That exclamation could only mean one thing; Donovan had been defeated by his bowtie once again. Scooping the hem of her miniature Chanel gown out of the way, she leapt down from the desk where she was doing her grooming and padded into Donovan's bathroom. Of course he was fumbling with the bowtie, French cuffs askew, cummerbund about to burst.

"Need some help, Dr. D?" she asked, climbing up his tuxedo trouser leg.

"You always do it best, my dear," he said, letting her nimble hands tie the black silk around his neck. She continued to adjust the rest of his clothes for him, sighing to herself. Donovan was so confusing sometimes; he was brilliant, but utterly scatterbrained. Or crazy. Even though she had known him for almost all of her life, she still couldn't figure him out in the least.

"Well, look at you!" He reached up to stroke her furry arm. "Getting dressed up for that military jerk?"

"No, I just like to look nice, not like a sausage rolled in clothes. What's your costume, dead alcoholic uncle back from the grave?"

"Ouch!" Donovan grinned. "You sure do have a sweet little mouth on you, huh?"

"Aw, Dr. D, you like it when I'm mean to you!" She leapt down from his shoulder and went back to the desk. She brushed on some greenish eye shadow, checking every once in a while in the reflection of her handheld mirror on Donovan.

"I trust you'll make it on time," he said as he scooped up his tuxedo jacket.

"The man said he'd pick me up around 7. Should be enough time to get there, if he doesn't take me to Lover's Lane and have his way with me," she replied.

"I would just _hate_ to have my VP be a no-show."  
"I don't think anyone else would care if I wasn't there," she said.

"It ain't a party without you, m'dear!" He chuckled thickly then left to pick up Dr. Slate. Jenny said a little prayer for her; Donovan could be a handful and a half and she knew Slate dreaded these evenings.

Jenny called for a security escort downstairs. In her younger days, she would have gladly walked downstairs, but nowadays, her body wasn't being too kind to her. Luckily, it was Officer Umeboshi's night to work the desk, and Jenny chatted with her as she rode on her shoulder down to the front desk. Eventually, Duane's sleek yellow car pulled up in front of Quark. As he came around the car and strode up the steps to the glass doors, Jenny couldn't help but shiver a bit. It was so stupid, wasn't it? A stupid little monkey having a crush on a human! He was so handsome, though, so achingly elegant to look at. Working on that giant robot had built his body nicely. Not like Donovan, who more closely resembled a dumpling left in boiling grease for too long. Duane had slicked his hair back and a bit to the side in the new way that all the young guys were copying from magazines. Duane's hair, when not lacquered for special occasions, was another of Jenny's private pleasures; if she was lucky and he visited Quark, sometimes she would sit on his shoulder and curl a tiny hand into the back of his hair just to feel the lushness. Donovan's hair was thick, all right, but it was unruly. When she was sitting on his shoulder, it usually got into her mouth or clung to her fur. Of course, he wouldn't dream of following the fashion of the day, he just let his hair grow as it pleased out of his damn crazy head, and for all the years Jenny had known him, she had never seen him actually dye his hair that obscene, violent red. She sometimes suspected it was just whatever bizarre chemical powered his body leaking out in an overflow.

"Good evening, Miss Jenny," Duane said, a bit of his Midwestern drawl peeking out between the words. "Shall we?" He offered her his arm.

"Yo. Let's get this thing done." She leapt on to his shoulder. He walked into the car and slid in. He had put the canopy up on his convertible so that she could ride on his shoulder the whole way.

"So, Halloween, huh? What's your costume?" he asked.

"Missing Link. And you?"

"Guy Who Gives A Damn About Boring Company Parties."

Jenny laughed so hard she almost rolled off of his shoulder in to the backseat.


	6. Chapter 6

The party was practically the same as it had been in previous years. Investors, customers and employees mulled about politely in their half-assed costumes, trying not to offend or overstep their boundaries. A buffet was spread out at the end of the rented hall, book ended by ice sculptures of Big Guy and Rusty. It was so boring Jenny wanted to commit arson but instead she plastered a human-like smile on her small face and greeted everyone with the same inane chatter they needed to hear year after year. Yes, Quark was growing rather nicely in the last quarter, and have you heard the new specs about Quark's combo board and by the way, how did the surgery to remove your mother-in-law's gallstones go? Duane was understanding enough, standing there patiently as Jenny prattled on, but she was aware of his eyes sweeping the room, searching for Erika. If she had set it up this way, why did it hurt? Why did it niggle at her just a bit, like a painting that never wanted to stay straight, or a leaking faucet?

Erika was working the other end of the room, fastened to Donovan's arm. She was dressed in an Egyptian fashion in a white pleated gown with gold detailing on the hem, under the bust and at the neckline. Her dark hair was curled tight with a golden snake winding itself around her crown. Her kohl-lined eyes were also searching the room. Jenny could sense the moment their eyes met, and something like a silent conversation passed between them, something like "I'm stuck with _this_ pompous ass", "Yeah, I've got a monkey on my back." Or at least, that's what Jenny felt they would have said. She felt his body underneath her align himself in Erika's direction, felt his energy pull towards her. Even his scent changed.

"Whoa, there. Let Bozo get juiced first and then you can make your move," she said in his ear.

"Huh?" He grinned, trying to play dumb, but knowing he was too obvious in his intentions. Jenny patted his head a bit condescendingly. She was the most condescending when vulnerable, although it mostly manifested itself in the daily abuse of the Quark staff. She reeled in it when dealing with Duane, though. Instead, she steered him towards the buffet and had him fix them both a plate.

As they sat at a table (Jenny sitting on the table) she tried to make small talk that wouldn't show the rage and jealousy she was feeling.

"So, here we are again, huh? I don't know about you, but if this is the last Quark party I attend, I won't be too sorry."

"I guess I don't mind. Gets me off the ship."

_And closer to Erika? What's wrong with that girl? This guy is crazy about her. Stupid humans. Stupid, dumb ass two-legged hairless pinkies with their social rules and fears. They need a healthy dose of animal instinct. _

"So, Duane--if I can drop the military formalities, after all we _have_ known each other for a while now--"

"Yeah."

"So, Duane, what do you do for fun?"

"Avoid suicide."

Jenny laughed, half-choking on her champagne. Black humor: delicious.

"I read. A lot. Or sometimes we play games on the ship, but that gets pretty old after a while, y'know?"

"It must suck being stuck out there."

"Yes." Duane's face clouded, aged somehow.

"Why don't they de-commission the Big Guy? He's pretty ancient technology compared to Rusty." Jenny chewed her lightly seared beef slowly, watching his expression change, sensing the electric current in his body shift.

"I don't know." His voice was heavy, his words dropping from his mouth. Time to change the subject.

"Everyone talked pretty big stuff about the new Roman Holiday novel, but I thought it was a load of crap. Did you read that clunker?"

"Unfortunately. Its success was either hype or a collective case of bad taste," he said. That did the trick.


	7. Chapter 7

The conversation had just taken another delicious turn when Jenny spotted Donovan getting grabby with Slate. She didn't want their chat to end, but eventually it had to, didn't it?

"Now's your big chance," she said, jumping on to Duane's shoulder. He turned around in time to see Donovan's hand sliding down Slate's waist to her hips. Jenny had to cling to his lapels as he lurched up from his chair. As he closed the gap, Jenny took one last moment to drape herself around his shoulders, just a moment in which she could enjoy his warmth in secret. Erika glanced up with grateful eyes as they approached.

"Trade ya," Jenny said, hopping from Duane's shoulders to Donovan's. Erika just threw her an appreciative look as Duane quickly led her away before Donovan could say anything.

"Hey, what happened?" Donovan slurred, champagne clouding his breath.

"You just upgraded," Jenny said. She watched as Erika and Duane slipped through the crowd and ducked out of a doorway. _Good luck,_ she thought. _Don't waste your time, don't lose your chance._ Maybe things would finally work out for them. Maybe Erika just needed the opening Jenny created.

But, as the evening wore on and she dreamed of romantic adventures for her friend, she spotted them sitting outside. Duane had let Erika sit on his jacket so that her white dress wouldn't get ruined on the stone bench by the fountain outside. They were just talking! They weren't even sitting close to each other or anything! What the hell? Jenny felt a frown creasing her mouth as she looked on the figures of her friends, sitting separately in the dark, wasting a perfectly good chance. What the hell did they have to be talking about? Why did they look so serious? Did they always have to be so uptight? Couldn't they just enjoy themselves for one goddamned moment?

"Ow," Donovan grunted, brushing her hands from his neck. She had dug her fingernails into his flesh leaving little red crescents in the doughy skin. She mumbled an apology and turned away from the window.

Later that night, after steering Donovan to his room, Jenny sat in her room thinking. She had her own place in Donovan's huge apartment. It was almost one quarter of one floor of the building that they lived in, and built especially for her. Colorful metal bars hung from the ceiling in a room filled with miniaturizations of human fixtures. She crouched on the plush pink velvet stool of her mirrored vanity, staring at her leathery face in a silver hand held mirror. Thoughts of Erika and Duane and her mortality jostled for space in her crowded mind. God, what she would do if only she could trade places with Erika!

Jenny placed the mirror face down on her vanity table. She couldn't bear to look at her own reflection as the next thoughts silenced all others and crawled across her brain, so sickening in their cunning.


	8. Chapter 8

Jenny's mouth was dry as she went to betray her friend. If she was going to die in the next few years, and if Erika was going to be so stuck up, then maybe it was worth it. She lied to Donovan and told him that she was going to work late, that she would call for a car home when she was ready, then waited and reviewed the plans she had drawn over the last week, knowing Erika would be working late and completely alone.

She hesitated for only a moment, then opened the door to the lab. Maybe she had gone home! Maybe she would be out having fun! Although Jenny secretly prayed to be stopped, she was powerless to stop herself. Predictably, Erika was still there, pouring over paper work, reviewing schematics.

"Hey, Slate, I got something I want you to look at," she said. Jenny's voice sounded distant to her ears. It wasn't too late to stop, but she just couldn't. She almost felt propelled in this devious direction. Erika looked up, slightly surprised. Jenny worked late plenty of times, and they had had some of their best after-hours bitch fests over coffee in the later hours, but it had been a while.

"Sure, anything." Erika put her papers down and let Jenny climb up her arm to take her place around her neck.

"It's down in the Lost Projects area," Jenny said.

"All the way down there?" Erika swept her hair across her shoulder. "I don't think I've been able to go there for a while."

"Yeah, Dr. D hates people snooping in his half-assed toy chest. He's finally let me have a crack at it so I've been doing some revisions for him and found a few things that may be worth taking another look at. I just want a real scientist's opinion before I give the okay to keep it or scrap it."

"Jenny, you're perfectly qualified to make those kinds of decisions, but…I need a break, and it would be fun to get a peek in there. I have a feeling some things I wanted ended up there."

"Maybe…" Jenny tried a feeble smile, but she was intensely nervous and yet determined. She bunched the fabric of Erika's coat in her paws to keep them from shaking. They walked to the Lost Projects area, a warehouse area filled with things that were almost useless but that Donovan saw enough potential in so that he didn't want them scrapped.

"Jenny," Erika said, "you seem a bit…I don't know. Out-of-sorts."

"Huh?"

"Are you okay?"  
Jenny sat in silence for a moment. It wouldn't hurt to try to tell her the truth, maybe just a little. She owed her that.

"I'm old," she said.

"Jenny, c'mon, you're not that…old…" Erika's voice faded as she considered Jenny's age.

"My kind don't last too long, not like you humans. I hate it, Erika! I hate being…me."  
"Don't we all at some time or another?" Erika said, trying to cheer her friend up. Even though she was barely visible out of the corner of her eye, she could see Jenny's half-forlorn, half-accusatory look on her face.

"Why would you hate being you? You're beautiful, smart…you've got freedom. You're your own person, not a…I don't know…a slave, a pet, a secretary, a vice president, a freak show…" Jenny shook her tiny head, a habit she picked up from humans. "I feel like I just started to live, and now…"

"Jenny…"

"No, I'm ok. I'm ok…But my time is getting short. I can feel it. I smell like a dead monkey already."

"Jenny! Come on—stop talking like that!" Erika reached up to stroke Jenny. She felt her fingers run up the fur on her back, kind and loving. Erika was such a great human being, one of only a handful Jenny loved deep down inside. She felt certain that today would be the last time Erika would ever care about her, ever want to comfort her. But then again, maybe she would understand…

She gave Erika the key to vault 405. She unlocked the door and went in.

"Oh, the Neugogg machine…Haven't seen this in ages. What did you want to show me with it?" Erika ran her hand across the dusty red metal of the old, clunky machine. It sat collecting cobwebs shrouded in the cool, concrete darkness of the vault, a technologically ancient and dangerous curiosity. The military was salivating all over itself to get the thing, but Donovan had kept it out of their hands. Maybe besides him, Jenny was the only person who knew it was still intact. Donovan had occasionally brought in scientists to check it out, but they couldn't get it to do anything useful. Of course, like typical men, they never bothered to read the damn manual. Jenny had been pouring over the remnants of notes that Neugogg had left behind, piecing together the various functions and intentions of the machine until she was sure it would do exactly what she wanted it to do.

"You know, I wouldn't have known it was here if Donovan hadn't told me about it. He also told me that it had a different function that no one bothered to mess with. I was wondering if you'd help me test it out."

"Wasn't it supposed to read minds or something?" Erika crossed her arms over her chest, smiling at the prospect of a little mind-reading fun.

"Something like that." Jenny placed the human-sized helmet on her head, indicating the other to Erika. She chuckled, then slipped it on, her wild dark hair thrusting out from under it. Jenny looked at her friend, savoring the last moment that she would ever trust her enough to even put on a dangerous machine's accoutrement, then threw the switch.


	9. Chapter 9

She felt so sick; the world had withered around her. Her body was swollen and elongated, encumbered by clothes. She lay on the floor with her cheek pressed to the cold concrete staring over at what was now Erika. Her amber eyes bulged from her black wrinkled face, her fangs edging out around her slight grimace. Jenny knew Erika was just as disoriented as she was and the way to win the upper hand was to be the first to gain control.

She lurched to her feet, arms flailing and fumbling. She knocked her knuckles against the machine and cried out a little. The vertigo was intense- even the sound of a different voice was disorienting. She stumbled, practically stepping on her former body and crushing it. All Erika had to do was reach out and flick the switch again and the process would be reversed, but she was more confused than Jenny: bewildered by the physical switch and blindsided by the betrayal. Jenny smacked the helmet away from the tiny monkey body on the ground. God, how small she was! How utterly small and fragile! She dropped to the floor, feeling the big bones of her knees thud on the floor, heaving and staring down at Erika writhing on the floor, her black feet and hands clenching and unclenching. Jenny reached out with large, uncertain hands and carefully scooped her up. Erika flailed about, but was too terrified to struggle too much. That was good; Jenny wasn't sure of her own strength and was certain that with any sudden movement, she would kill Erika. These first moments were so crucial.

She heaved to her feet, scraping her shoulder against the wall. Breathing hard, she managed to work her way to the back of the vault where she had a specially prepared cage. Erika's eyes widened, realizing the depths of Jenny's premeditation. Jenny slid her inside, where there was her favorite velvet pillow, a blanket, fresh fruits, bottled mineral water, even magazines. All of the comforts of home in a wire and plastic prison in the back of a forgotten storage unit! As she swung the door closed, she choked out her intentions as best she could.

"Temporary!" she said, "Just…just temporary…tomorrow…night…" Her mouth was parched. She couldn't manage another sentence, and although she was terribly sorry it had come to this, a part of her was ecstatic that it had actually worked. Her eyes locked with Erika's, she stumbled to the front door of the vault and slipped out. She left it unlocked, but it hardly mattered; no one would be down here at all.

As she walked slowly down the corridor, settling in to Erika's body, she felt her whole being tremble with triumph. It worked, it worked! Here was her beautiful chance! She stared at her smooth hands, slender and dark with elegant, long fingers. She smoothed each fingertip against her opposable thumbs. Goddamn, these things made life easy! Every movement of her clothes against her skin seemed amplified, every step she took a giant stride. It was so delicious! If she hadn't still been wobbly she would have skipped down the hall.

She didn't want to pretend to know how to drive, so she gathered up Erika's purse and caught a taxi. She had been to her apartment before, so she knew how to tell the driver where to go. She was feeling so good she even gave him a twenty-dollar tip! Four-eyes could afford it after all; she _never_ went out, so she probably had a pretty hefty nest egg.

By the time she had marched up the stairs and gotten the door open, she was right at home in her new body. She threw her purse on the table and ran into the bedroom. First she stripped all of the oppressive clothes off of her body to admire it in the full-length bathroom mirror. Erika was beautiful! Boy, she had been hiding some great stuff under her frumpy suits! And her body was so smooth, so absolutely supple! Jenny ran her new hands all over her skin feeling it prickle at her touch. Out of the corner of her eye, she caught sight of a brush and quickly snatched it up. It slid through her dark curls so easily, making them glossy. Her body was velvety and gorgeous, not rough, furry, or hunched!

But, first things first: if she was going to really do everything she told Erika to do, she had to set some priorities straight. She dug through her purse to find Erika's cell phone. It was austere and grey, with only a little charm shaped like an atom hanging from a plain red cord. She flipped it open and scrolled through the menu looking for Duane's number. No doubt, Erika had to have his direct line somewhere. After thumbing through several entries, she found one number that had to be his. For some reason, it wasn't listed as a name, just a number and a few letters, as if it was in code. Sneaky military crap, no doubt. Whatever. When she dialed it, it clicked a few times, and then he actually picked up.

"Erika?" Duane's voice was rather clear, unlike the Dark Horse connections. "It's two in the morning. Is everything ok?"

"Hi, Duane." Jenny thrilled to hear her new voice. "What are you doing tomorrow?"

"Same old, same old," he sighed. "Why? What's up?"

"How about you come over tomorrow night, huh? Sound good? I want to talk about…" She groped for a relevant topic. "…robots." Jenny stifled a laugh that tried to burst through her nose.

"Robots…" Duane sounded pensive. "Ok. I think the best I can do on such short notice is just shore leave. Maybe."

"You better find a way to get over here. I really need to talk to you about robots." Jenny snickered; it was fun hearing Erika's voice being strong and pushy for once. Strangely enough, Duane chuckled a bit, too.

"Well, it sounds really important. And if you say it's about robots, I'll definitely be there. I'll get that shore leave, one way or another."

"Pick up a bucket of chicken on your way over, too."

"A bucket of chicken? Yes, ma'am."

Jenny let out a laugh. "See you at seven, then?"

"Yes, ma'am. Seven it is."

"Good. I'm really looking forward to talking to you. I've had some business that I've needed to discuss with you for quite a while."

"I'm all business, then."

"Ok. Talk to you tomorrow."

"See you then."


	10. Chapter 10

Although Jenny's mind was wild with excitement, Erika's body was exhausted from a full day's work. Jenny finally collapsed into her bed around 3:30, taking time to writhe in the wonderfully fluffy sheets. As she flicked off the lamp, she marveled at how small everything had become, how manageable everything was. Her lovely greenish eyes fluttered closed as she slipped into sleep.

She was jolted out of her blank dreams by the cell phone ringing on the bedside table. Still fuzzy eyed, she was surprised to see it was actually Donovan on the caller ID. For a moment, she considered the fact that Erika was late to work. Not that it mattered much. She flipped the phone open.

"Yeah?"

"Slate?"

"I said, yeah?" Jenny's rancor didn't translate well in Erika's gentle voice. Donovan made a flustered, confused sound on the other side of the phone that sounded vaguely like salami rustling about in a pillowcase then continued.

"Is Jenny at your place? She didn't come home last night." For a moment, Jenny was touched that he even noticed. But then she thought he probably only cared because his lazy ass was going to have to fix his own cappuccino.

"No. She probably wanted some alone time. Maybe she wants to be her own person and have some freedom, ever think of that?"

"…Slate?" The collision of confusion and anger was present in the crack in his voice.

"Oh, and I'm sick." She coughed sarcastically for emphasis. "So I ain't comin' in today."

"Slate?!" Before he could bleat again, she turned the phone off and sank back into another hour and a half of sleep.

The day started with a nice, long stretch. Jenny kicked a leg in the air and flexed her foot, staring at it. It was so stubby, so useless, but would probably look killer in a pair of heels. She rolled out of bed, peed, and examined her body again in the mirror for a good half an hour before strolling into the kitchen to fix breakfast. Erika was so fastidious the entire kitchen (and no doubt the entire apartment, too) was neatly organized. The pantry yielded pretty dull eats, mostly health-nut cereal and herbal tea as far as breakfast went. Jenny snagged a banana (she never ate those in public, either, even though she enjoyed those more than smoking) and went to the closet to get dressed.

The woman was hiding a hoarde of riches! Besides her conservative, dull work outfits, Erika had squirreled away a few veritable fashion treasures. Several of last season's more tasteful but classy pieces were neatly hung towards the back of the closet. Jenny had small reproductions of some of them, and was amazed to see them in human size. She dug through the closet, sometimes snatching up dresses or suits and pressing them against her body. Jenny had always been a fashion fiend, but her lust was pointless with only that miserable little body. Even though she wore tiny versions of expensive gowns that other women would kill for, she always felt vulgar in them.

What was that, besides Erika's sensible shoe rack? A whole collection of sexy, gorgeous high heels, half of them still in their boxes or with minimal wear on the soles, was sitting in tidy little rows in the back of the closet! Mouth watering, Jenny gingerly lifted a Christian Laboutin patent leather demi-platform with three quarters heel and peep toe out of its tissue paper cocoon. Jenny had a pair at home, but they were just for decoration. She jammed them on her feet and stood up. Her ankles buckled, her knees wobbled and she spilled backwards. One of her elbows banged on the wall. There was nothing more ridiculous looking than a naked woman in high heels squirming on the carpet trying to lick her elbow. Damn, this was going to take some practice!

Erika strode into her usual coffee shop, dressed to the nines at 10:45 a.m. Josef looked over the top of the espresso machine, one thick eyebrow cocked. A pair of Prada sunglass were perched on her nose (even though it wasn't that sunny outside) and though he didn't know shit from Chanel, her dress was definitely too swanky for a Wednesday morning workday. Speaking of workdays, wasn't it a bit late for her to be coming in?

"Morning, Miss Erika," he said. She turned, startled, then flashed a smile that was brightly ringed by reddish lipstick. She brushed her wild hair from her face. "A little late for you, isn't it?"

"I'm taking a personal day!" She exclaimed.

"That's good, you've been workin' too hard anyhow." Josef leaned over the counter, resting on his meaty forearms. "You want your usual?" She swayed a bit from side to side then blurted "No!" She paused, swallowing. "I want something different. I want…." Her eyes ran across the menu on the wall. "…a white chocolate cappuccino, small. No, make it a medium. Yeah, medium. And a big-ass piece of marble pound cake."

"Ok…" He slid the pastry cabinet open and jabbed a finger at a piece of the pound cake. "This big-ass enough for you, Erika?"

"Yeah!" She squealed and giggled like an excited schoolgirl. Josef shook his head as he slid the cake into a wax paper bag and got her cappuccino ready. He placed it on the counter, took her money and gave her the change. She squeaked a thanks and then bounced out of the coffee shop, her flip-flops clicking on her smooth heels.

"What's with her?" Someone asked from behind Josef. His eyes followed her as she went into her apartment building across the street.

"I dunno. But whatever it is, I hope it keeps up. I ain't seen her that happy for a long time."


	11. Chapter 11

Jenny took the entire day to adjust and preen. One of the first frustrating things she noticed was that all of the animal instincts, her keen sense of smell and her ability to detect changes in people around her, they were almost completely gone. That explained a lot about humans; they were practically flying blind. Jenny also kept flexing an imaginary tail and trying to use her feet to grab and sort only to sadly realize her body was much less flexible and solely reliant on her hands. She hoped Erika was enjoying her tail; it really was like an old friend, so comfortable and handy. It took at least a few hours before she could manage a more human appearance devoid of her restless monkey habits. Jenny spent most of the day trying on different clothes, practicing walking in heels and grooming. She bathed and rubbed creamy lotion all over her hairless body. She worked her hair for an hour, brushing it and conditioning it, making it gleam and swirl around her shoulders and down her back. Although she was of the opinion that Erika looked better without her glasses, she couldn't find any contact lenses in the place, so instead she played up her hazel eyes with goldish-green eye shadow and a thick line of smoky kohl eyeliner. When she was done she thought Erika looked hotter than she had ever looked in her entire life. That girl just kept her designer dresses and good looks to herself instead of sharing it like she should! Then again, that was the point of the entire expedition, wasn't it? And Jenny was going to share Erika with Duane in a way she had been dreaming about for years.

But…as the hour drew near, Jenny became more and more unsettled. Just what exactly was she going to do when he showed up? What was she going to say? What was it going to be like if something happened? Would it hurt? Jenny thought back to Donovan's pornos, with their squealing and screaming and contortions. A documentary about monkey mating flashed through her mind, too…God, what the hell was she really going to do with good old Duane? Imagination was different from reality, and she was facing down a whole truckload of reality. Maybe she could just eat chicken, shoot the breeze, maybe hint that Erika really liked Duane and they should maybe get together another night or something.

The doorbell jolted her out of her imaginary fears and into her real ones. Duane was here, with a bucket of chicken. Goddammit. Trembling, she walked across the floor in her lavender and gold Manolo Blahniks and hesitated with her hand on the knob. She took a moment to pull it together; after all, she had dealt with heads of companies, arranged major deals and moved millions of dollars, and that was just as a hairy little monkey. She was a beautiful woman with a capable mind, and she could deal with one guy holding a bucket of chicken on the other side of the door. She flicked the lock and opened the door.

It was startling, how small Duane actually was. He might have been an inch, maybe two taller than Erika. Ever so put together, he was wearing a neatly pressed light blue shirt and some khakis. It was casual, but still slightly military in a way. And God, he was so handsome. All of the animal instincts that Jenny was lacking suddenly flooded up into her, pumping blood through her body fast and hard. She backed away slowly, smiling the toothy grin of a cornered monkey. She had fought so hard to control it for so many years; humans never understood her smile, and Duane didn't understand now. He just regarded her with his calm green eyes as he walked into her apartment and locked the door. He placed the bucket of Appalachian Fried Chicken on the kitchen table, and sighed.

"So, robots and chicken? Is that our code now?" Duane's smile was always a little crooked and it showed his chipped incisor. Jenny didn't understand what he meant. He closed the gap between them and pushed her against the dining room wall. Without hesitation, without asking for permission, he kissed her. His body was smaller and larger all at the same time, his scent so clean and vivid, and his taste—Jenny tasted banana gum and spearmint toothpaste in his kiss. Jenny was so overwhelmed by everything she barely registered his hands crawling around her body. His hand slipped to her breast, thumbing her nipple through her dress. She broke his kiss involuntarily as she moaned, head lolling back. He kissed up her jaw line to nibble at her ear.

"Erika, I just think about you all day long…you're the only thing that keeps me going, you know that…" Jenny writhed as his hot breath tickled her ear. It only encouraged him further. His hand left her breast and glided down to her hips. He kissed her fiercely as his hand gathered up the fabric of her dress. His hand glided underneath the folds and went straight between her legs with determination. She couldn't help but cry out.

"You sure are sensitive today, huh?" Duane's usually sweet grin was strangely naughty, even a little perverse. Jenny never dreamed she would see that look cross Duane's face. Duane, who was always so straight-laced, a practical boy scout! His mouth went to her neck. She felt moisture on the inside of her thighs and panicked a little thinking that she had started bleeding like that one time she accidentally went into heat and got blood on Donovan's jacket, but then she remembered that humans didn't go into heat like that. Had she pissed herself in fear or something? Even though her mind was utterly disoriented, her body, Erika's body, seemed comfortable with the situation. When Duane's fingers slid inside of her up to the knuckles, it felt so natural. She was reeling with confusion, with pleasure; her knees gave out. She clutched Duane's shoulders to keep from collapsing on the floor. He lifted her up, wrapping her legs around his waist, and carried her into the bedroom.


	12. Chapter 12

Was it worth it? Was it really, really worth it?

Jenny stared at Duane's form, naked and wrapped in sheets lying next to her. No, not really her; Erika, lying next to Erika. This was only a borrowed body and a stolen time. She lightly ran a finger over Duane's shoulder. It had been such a surprise to see that Duane, who was always such a goody-goody, had tattoos running up his arms and across his back. Old squadron names, weird foreign designs, perhaps mementos of his military time? Wasn't he in the war? He had to have been a kid, right?

Here and there, the tattoos were crisscrossed with fresher scars. Her mind was reeling; she couldn't piece together why he would be scarred. He was just a mechanic now, not really a soldier in a war. She could barely think straight as it was; her body was exhausted, trembling and a bit sore. Her mind was a mess, scattered and guilty. If this was what she wanted why did it pain her? She was aware of all of the consequences. She had plotted and planned and then…

Duane turned over to face her, his green eyes connecting with hers. She was a bit startled; she assumed he was asleep.

"Erika, my leave is up in about 30 minutes, but you know I can't sneak out of here, steal a piece of cold chicken and leave you all alone when you're awake…are you ok? You seemed a little strange today…"Jenny turned onto her Erika's back. She couldn't bear to look at him. "Don't be this way…please." He gently kissed her shoulder, his arm sliding across her Erika's waist. "You know I can't help it. I can't change the way things are, but they say any day now, you know?"

She felt so ill. The vertigo was more intense than when she first switched. It was like skipping to the middle of a novel and wandering into the characters in the midst of their lives, not knowing where they were coming from, only being able to guess.

_Erika, how long had this been going on? I'm so sorry…I should have never tried to meddle…_Jenny felt tears running down her cheekbones.

"Please, don't get like that…" Duane's muscular, tattooed arm squeezed her middle. "Baby, they've got to de-commission me soon. I can't drive Big Guy forever…Things will change soon, I know it." Jenny suddenly jerked her head to look at him. What had he said? He just looked at her, concern visible in his eyes even in the dark, even as her mind swam. "I know I always say it, but it's got to change soon. I can't go on like this forever." She only could stare, overwhelmed with turmoil, as he took her hand and kissed each finger, oblivious of the truth.

Suddenly, the doorbell rang. Her heart was pounding in her chest. Fuck. Who else could it be at this time of night, right? Fuck. Duane's brow furrowed. Maybe she could just slip out and apologize without him ever being the wiser, but there was probably no way to get anything by him. Shaking, she scooted to the edge of the bed and tried to slip on her dress. Duane was quicker, springing out of bed and getting on his pants.

"I'll check. Don't want it to be another kidnap attempt or something," he said. She followed him out to the front room, wanting to hold him back but quivering too hard to be effective. He looked out of the peephole.

"I don't see anyone…" he said, but almost before he finished, they heard a voice on the other end of the door.

"Just break it down! Just get in there!" It was Jenny's voice, or actually, now Erika's voice. Jenny sank to the floor. Duane glanced at her but got behind the door, ready to attack if there was a threat. He swung open the door quickly. Jenny saw her former body perched on Rusty's head. Erika must have figured out a way to get out of the cage (she wasn't stupid, after all) and got her robot. Her amber eyes widened, and her sharp fangs flashed.

"You had better have a good reason--!" She screamed, jumping down from Rusty and tearing across the room, trying at times to walk upright or ambling awkwardly with no mastery of her new body. Jenny braced for a bite, but Duane darted from behind the door and snatched up the careening monkey.

"What the hell is going on?" he asked. Erika looked at him in shock, pain written across her face. She turned once again to Jenny.

"What did you do?! _What did you do!?!"_ She shrieked, hands and feet clawing at Jenny. Tears started to pour from her eyes. Jenny backed away until her back hit a wall. Erika stopped trying to attack her and simply hung, defeated, from Duane's hands, sobbing.

"Hello, Lt. Duane." Rusty stepped into the room. His voice was calm, a sharp contrast to the entire scene. He stared at Duane fixatedly; he was always so neatly dressed, it was so incredibly strange to see him half-naked and disheveled. His hair looked so peculiar all out of place, and what were those strange markings on his arms? He had to stop staring; he could register Duane's body prickling with discomfort, but still, he would mull over his image in his photographic memory later.

"Close that door!" Duane ordered. Rusty obliged. "Once again, what the hell is going on here?" Erika continued to sob. Jenny sat shaking and ashamed against the wall. She realized as much as she loved to talk, she hadn't said anything that she had wanted to Duane. The most she had told him was to bring a bucket of chicken.

"We have to go back to Quark now, Lt. Duane. There's been an accident," Rusty said.

"What kind of accident?"


	13. Chapter 13

Jenny, back in her old body, sat in her room once again. Donovan had locked the door, for the first time in her entire life. It had hurt to hear the lock click into place. It was like a cruel reminder that she was, in fact, someone's property, a bad animal that had misbehaved and with the turn of that key she lost all rights and privileges that she had worked so hard for.

She sat in her hammock staring at herself in her hand mirror again, looking beyond her eyes' reflection, lost in her thoughts. The door clicked; Donovan came in, his cheeks flushed red and the corners of his mouth turned down.

"What the hell possessed you?" He began screaming, sweat flying from his brow. "Slate says she doesn't want to work for me anymore! She refuses to come back to Quark! Do you know what I'm going to have to do to keep her? I'm over the fucking barrel because of your escapades! And that military guy gave it to me good, too, and you know how much I just _love_ that guy talking down to me like I'm beneath him or something. He was ready to fucking hit me, Jenny, said I need to control my monkey! I think he may be right! What do you say, huh? Right now, they're keeping it between us, but if the military fucking finds out about this then my ass is gone! I will _have_ to let them get their tentacles into my business, and they will fucking _strip us_! I am in a really tight place because of you, Jenny! All of our years together and this is how you decide to screw me, huh? Do you understand me? What made you do this, huh? What went through your little monkey mind?"

Jenny didn't understand him at all. Her mind had dissolved and her pure animal instincts had taken over. She sprung from her hammock directly at Donovan's face.


	14. Chapter 14

Jenny lay at the bottom of a cage usually used for lab animals. It was even more humiliating than having the door to her room locked. Tears leaked out of her eyes making her black skin shiny and slick. She had really fucked up everything. She had lost all of her friends, all of her rights. Maybe even Donovan didn't want her anymore. Who would? After all that she did, who would trust her? But isn't this what she expected? How did she really expect this would end? She had her ideas…

Donovan came into his room. He had left her in the cage on his desk and gone to work all by himself today. If he handled everything by himself, then maybe he didn't need Jenny anymore. Usually, if she took a sick day, he took a sick day. He couldn't face a day without Jenny helping him, without Jenny whispering important information in his ear, without Jenny's eyes to spot quality work. Maybe today was the day he outgrew all of that.

He leaned over the cage sitting on his desk and peered inside. He had stitches crossing his cheek from where Jenny had bitten him, and claw marks on his face and neck. It was really the last straw, wasn't it? Hurting poor old Donovan. Sure, he could be an ass, but in the end, he was her benefactor, her protector, her creator.

"Dr. D, have a heart…" Jenny's voice was dry and small. She barely had enough strength to lift a finger to the top of the cage. "People put the family dog down when it gets too old…I can't go on like this no more. C'mon, I went too far, didn't I? I just couldn't control myself. I'm out of control, Dr. D! I'm out of control…" Her voice faded. He didn't move, just studied her with surprisingly serious eyes. She wasn't even sure if he had heard her. Slowly, he opened the cage and reached inside. Her body hung listlessly from his hands as he scooped her up.

Donovan sat in the plush red leather chair behind his desk. Gently, he cradled Jenny in the crook of his arm and softly stroked her fur. Jenny couldn't help but instinctively clutch at the lapels of his suit. Gratitude flooded through her, but she was also a little stunned that Donovan, klutzy, careless Donovan, could be so tender. He _never _pet her although she secretly liked it, like smoking and bananas. She turned her face into the folded handkerchief in the breast pocket of his suit, trying to stifle the sniffles that kept rippling through her body.

"So, how was it?" he asked.

"What?"

"You know. The whole being human thing. Is the grass truly greener?"

She blinked a few times, getting the tears off of her eyelashes. He took that moment to take the handkerchief she had been crying on out of his pocket to hand it to her. It was embroidered with fine reddish-gold Japanese thread looping into his initials. The thought crossed her mind that no one ever called him Axel, not even her, although it was supposedly his first name. She had her doubts though; it sounded like a bullshit kind of name. She took a moment to wipe her face with the silken fabric, then curled up again against his chest.

"Yeah, maybe," she said, staring down at her tail. She was too embarrassed to look in his eyes while admitting these things. It was hard enough saying the words out loud but she felt she had to. People always said that language separated humans from animals. Language separated her even further but had always helped to justify Jenny. "But I was surprised at how you guys don't have any instincts or nothin'. It's like you just go around in a fog or something."

"Is that so?" If Jenny had known what a human father, or the ideal of a human father, was like, maybe she would have heard paternal overtones in his voice.

"It's pathetic. No wonder you need me around, Dr. D."  
"Everyone should be so lucky."

"But it was kind of nice," Jenny uncurled and turned to perch on his arm. "I had a lot of hair to brush, and you know, Erika has all sorts of really cool shoes."  
"She got those Jimmy Choos you wanted, the purple ones?"

Jenny clambered further up his shoulder, her tail lashing excitedly. "Yeah! But they were in green. But her feet were useless, except for wearing shoes. And human's bodies are so…solid. Not very functional, you know? And I missed my tail." Jenny draped herself around his neck again. No matter how annoying Donovan was Jenny realized that he was comfortable, he was secure. As she settled in to her familiar spot, she could feel the unasked question that lay in his mind. She didn't want to face it just right now, didn't want to think about what happened between her and Duane. It was bittersweet; a piece of candy laced with shards of glass. It was wrong, very, very wrong, but maybe she could later admit to herself that it was what she wanted.

"You know you're in a lot of trouble," he said.

She sighed. "I know."

"Do you still want to be put down?"

Even though she desperately had wanted to die these past few hours, now the thought was shocking and sharp. Although she had been aware of her waning health and of the dangerous consequences of her actions, it was if these few minutes safely perched on Donovan's shoulder had revitalized her. Even if she was never let out of the house again, even if she never talked to Erika or Duane, she still felt like she could squeeze the very last dregs of her stupid monkey life out of her pathetic body and enjoy it to the end.

"I…I—" She tried to stammer an answer but Donovan cut her off.

"I couldn't do that to you. I guess not unless life was truly, truly unbearable for you. Has it gotten so bad?" His brow furrowed.

"It's pretty bad, Dr. D. Maybe not that bad, but bad."

"What did you expect was going to happen?" He chuckled. It was his most infuriating habit, to laugh during serious conversations. She nipped his ear.

"I just had to take a risk!" she said, a bit harried. He scratched the sweet spot on her neck.

"You're so brilliant. I'm proud of you."

"What? How can you say that? I really screwed everything up!" She twisted herself around so that she was practically standing on his chest.

"Yeah, it was a dumb move all around, I must say, but the mechanics behind it were really genius!" He unleashed his maddening laugh again. Jenny felt her face wrinkling in a snarl. He was so goddamn confusing!

"You just go looking for diamonds in bullshit, don't you, Dr. D?"

"If I didn't, do you think Gaston from Sector 13, or Brundle on H29 would ever have jobs at Quark? Hmm? Think about Slate, even; who else would hire her? They thought she was a novelty act, coming out of university in her teens; thought she didn't have anything to back it up. And you know the attitude towards Indians after the First World War, what with the empirical land grab nonsense."

"I guess…" Jenny slumped back on his shoulder taking in the smell of his cologne, so strangely comforting. "Do you think she'll come back?"

"Maybe. Probably. We've got her robot, after all. Plus all of her military ties are through us, and I don't think she wants to give those up so soon." Jenny wiped her face unconsciously as if her black skin would betray her blush. "But I don't think _you'll_ be able to come back." Even though she knew that would be the situation, she still withered a bit. It was also a bitter surprise to note how much she truly enjoyed working. As if sensing this, Donovan said "Aw, cheer up; it'll be easier for you to lounge around all day than for me, having to go to work without my guiding light. Maybe things will work out." He began playing with her tail, letting her spiral it around his fingers and then pulling it out, then letting it curl up again. She vaguely had a memory of him playing with her like this when she was a baby…She couldn't remember very much about her past (sometimes she recalled being sick a lot) but the thing that was constant was Donovan. He was always there. She decided to try one more time.

"Dr. D, why did you make me?" she asked.

"Are you serious?"

"Are you _ever_ serious?"

"I guess if you really want to know…"

"You drive me crazy, you know that? Why wouldn't I want to know? Bastard." She nipped his ear again.

"Ok, ok! I'll tell you…"


	15. Chapter 15

"Jenny, you could _always_ talk. It was hardly anything I ever did."

"What?" Jenny was genuinely stunned. Although she sometimes fancied herself a unique evolution, she was sure the truth lay closer to her being an accidental creation.

"Well, I mean…there's speculation that I've been the cause of several of New Tronic's…problems." Donovan knitted his fingers together and got a guilty cast in his voice, like a little boy who knew he did wrong but wouldn't admit it. "And maybe that had something to do with you."

Jenny crawled down to the desk so that she could stare him straight in the face.

"Stop beating around the bush. Give it; the whole deal. What do you mean you made 'problems' and I was one of those 'problems'?"

"I didn't say _you_ were a problem!" He traced a finger under her jaw then scratched again at the spot that always softened her up. "And if you would keep your precious mouth shut, I'd fill you in. So clam up if you are really wanna know where you may or may not have come from."

"I'm all ears."

"Good girl. Now—Several years ago, before I had the wonderful golden voice of reason that I like to call Jenny, I was engaged in, shall we say, less than morally conscious practices. All of the big companies were, m'dear. It's just the way it ran in the fast and furious aughts. But think about it—Klaxon, Kilroy Giller, Fishpruct and Bambers, even Crabmeat Inc. all went right under Quark! Right under us, and we're still here. You know why? I'll get to that, but anyways, about the horrible ethical practices—

Quark industry back in those days ran a little unchecked, shall we say. Yes, it was a very productive, very lucrative time, but we were dumping all sorts of chemical crap up into the lakes and especially into that barren desert area out west. We thought back then it would never catch up with us, all that glowing, acidic, gene-changing crap gooking it up in the middle of nowhere.

Then the changes started happening. First a few cows with extra legs. No big deal, just get a tent down at the county fair, charge the rubes a nickel to gawk at it and you're all set, right? Then the crops stopped growing in some areas, so there were some lawsuits. Then the population took a dive. And a little of that population that made it came into this world a little differently than they should. If you're really curious, I'm sure I can find those file photos somewhere but really, it's gut wrenching, awful stuff.

Around this time, we started to feel the heat, me n' the others. Watchdog groups were breathing down our necks and those guys were still talking profits and loopholes. You know how my brain works; I was just thinking of ways to get people to buy more products to deal with the problems we created, not thinking of a way out of it. There was no way out of it, though. All of our asses were on the line in the biggest company shake-up the United States, maybe the world, had ever seen. Technology grew too fast, we got too greedy. We didn't know how to handle the byproducts of our production, so we were paying for our actions. Back then, I was pissed, but to be honest, I knew it was probably gonna happen sooner or later. Some of those other guys thought they were pretty untouchable. God, Fishpruct jumped right off his balcony!

Then the war started. We were kind of ignored for a little bit; the government had bigger fish to fry. Around this time, though, it was pretty much a done deal that we were gonna be stripped of everything we owned and maybe sent to jail. I felt like a dead man walking. It was then that I learned who my real friends were."

"You had _friends_, Dr. D?" Jenny snorted. Although she meant it sarcastically, just another friendly jibe like always, Donovan actually looked a little sad.

"I had friends and more, Jenny. But they weren't really my friends or anything. The party was over: I was left to clean up the confetti and streamers. I was completely, utterly alone but—I still had Quark. Even for just then, before the whole big house of cards came down on me, I still had Quark. I built this place up from nothing, you know."

"I know. You go on about it all the time," she said.

"It's my baby, Jenny. When I'm dead, Quark is going to go on and on and on! That's not something everyone can say. And the reason we're still here is the next part of the story. And, yes, this is about you as much as it is about Quark, or me, or New Tronic, or even The Big Guy."

"The Big Guy?"

"Shh."

Jenny bit her lip.

"While those other guys were jumping out of windows or running for the border, I was still thinking of my dearest darling, my number one in this wretched world: Quark. I couldn't just leave her behind knowing the government'd rape her up and down. They would have done even more devious things with the stuff I had tucked away in there than I would have and only because they would have sanctioned it for themselves. Just like all those LSD tests they did on those soldiers back in the day.

So around this time, there was an exodus of people from the Axis powers. I used this time to put on a good face- scooping up refugees while doing a talent search for fresh blood for Quark. Those Germans had a reservoir of scientist types that they were all too eager to chase out of their stupid country just for their dumb ass, backwards ideals. Now I looked a little more like a cooperative hero-type, the kinda guy who with enough make-goods could get his sorry ass out of trouble when the war business cleared up.

It was around this time we acquired a certain Dr. Pointdexter, who you know is the creator of the Big Guy and of many of the concepts of robots that we hold today. With him in our stables, the military wanted our services. Of course, I offered it all right up on a silver platter, still gambling that this was going to save my hide in the long run. The other guys who had left or folded were probably wishing they had thought of it first, but none of 'em had the balls, the gutless bastards. I didn't roll over, I didn't run away, and while it's true that I was still thinking mainly of myself, I didn't just sit there like a barnacle on a whale's ass. You snooze, you lose.

And then the big problems came up, in the most unfortunate time. All that sludge that everyone forgot about for a while had mutated some of the creepy crawlies living out there in the desert. Everyone who was there remembers the first time a giant, 30-foot-tall lizard crawled out of the mountains and scampered around the city. That was back before there were the kinds of shelters that there are now; in those days, we had bomb shelters, but not the hidey-holes of the masses that we have now, built especially for such occasions."

"By Quark."  
"Of course, by Quark. Of course. The depths of my brilliance conjured bunkers to protect the women and children and maybe some men folk from the dangerous critters that my negligence birthed. And I got to smile and cut ribbons and take photos the whole time. But that's later, when I was still breathing life back into the old gal. When the lizards crawled up, I was pretty much dead meat again. The military had to divert a huge amount of time, money and manpower away from the war to deal with these strange creatures, their trails of destruction, and their inconvenient corpses. I had just started to make it into the black when I went straight into the red again. Not only had I fucked up the war effort, it was page one news that despite all my best efforts to be a nice guy, I was still responsible for New Tronic being a mostly unlivable hell-hole.

I really wanted to take the easy way out in those first few days. But I thought, Goddammit, even if I'm an unloved bastard until my dying day, I just don't want my baby to go out on a bad note. I saw what happened to all the others who got out easy. I worked blood, sweat and tears on this thing, I wanted it to be in good hands, or maybe have a dignified death, not become some folded-up ruins or the government's bitch. I needed to stare down those things that I helped create that were trying to destroy me. I gathered up the very best in my company and told them the situation. I said we needed to get a handle on this right away and show that Quark was on it. We got the bunkers installed, shored up the subway system and even tried a few defense tactics. It was no good, though; the military was still needed every time we had an invasion. The Axis Powers were having themselves a great laugh watching our country destroy itself. The government wanted a quick, swift end to the war.

I knew Dr. Pointdexter was cooking something up, slowly but surely. Dr. Slate reminds me of him sometimes; some people need to be poked at constantly, need someone breathing down their neck to be productive. Poindexter, and Slate, just need a good, sharp jab every once in a while. They're focused enough to get the real deep thinking done, and when they're finished, it's like fireworks. So I give him a jab and a few days later Pointdexter comes to me with this robot plan. It was pure gold! I gave the military everything else it ever wanted, but this was one that I didn't want to let go. I was seriously in debt from rolling over for them and if I could get myself on the government payroll, then I could pull myself up by the bootstraps and get this thing going again. I used the very last of my finagling powers and whatever charm I may have had to score a contract with the military to commission the BGR series mostly through Quark (save for all their little secret weapons or whatever) thusly saving everyone's bacon simultaneously."

With a self-satisfied sigh, Donovan slumped back in his chair. Jenny's heart was beating fast. She had never heard Donovan express so much passion for anything before. When she was afraid he wasn't going to speak again and pressed a paw to his hand, he blinked, as if in a distant dream, then started up again.

"Of course, it's a beautiful piece of history now; the day the Big Guy took a big old stroll down Dotoumbouri in Osaka. Took those Germans a bit more convincing, though, didn't it? And by that time, they had half-built their own crappy version of Big Guy. And as everyone knows, that's how the Big Guy won the war. Quark was solid, America was number one, times were good. Except for the invasions. But Big Guy was just as handy, if not more so, with those than the regular military. He even cleans up after himself! New Tronic is now the Big Guy's home. With the help of yours truly, this place made a turnaround from dangerous, industrial wasteland to sparkling, family-friendly metropolis. People don't mind the invasions as much as before because now they get a free show while they eat their Rusty Burgers in a Quark bunker."

"Genius," Jenny whispered. Donovan patted her head, then continued.

"I was flying pretty high in those days. Quark was going gangbusters and with those other companies shut down, we were pretty much the only game in town. And so it went on for quite a while, but looking back, as much as I cared about Quark, I became kind of self-destructive. I got myself into some personal habits that took some time, some money and maybe some quiet stints in rehab clinics nestled on secluded beaches to break. I didn't ever let it interfere with my work, though. I guess it was due to a combination of things. Maybe stress or something."

Jenny's ears pricked. This was the dirt on Donovan others dreamed about hearing, but there, underneath the confession was an even deeper admission. Was he trying to tell Jenny he had been lonely, or had he still not admitted it to himself? Jenny made a mental note and remained silent.

"D'ya remember Dr. Greene?" he asked. She clicked back to the present.

"Dr. Greene? Old guy, died about…oh, five years ago?"

"Right. He was head of animal testing back in the day. I was down there one day busting his ass about something or other, and right when I turn to leave I hear someone say 'bastard'. I spin around to look him in the eye. We're just standing there staring at each other when I hear it again; 'bastard'. At this point, he's looking a little relieved that I know it ain't him but now we're both confused. There ain't no one else in the part of the lab where we are, and it wasn't us, so we're standing with our heads cocked listening to the sounds of monkeys and dogs and cats. Really quietly, underneath it all, we hear 'damn bastard won't go', or something like that. Where's it coming from? A teeny tiny monkey in a cage. You, sweetie."

Donovan scratched under her chin again.

"We look through all the cages, checking them out and then we see you say it with our own eyes. Before Greene can say anything, I get you hauled up to my office for some alone time, never once letting you out of my sight. Now, I liked Dr. Greene, liked him a bunch, but I assumed he thought like I did and if it were me that had heard a talking monkey in my lab, then I would have made off with it.

Once I had you alone you talked again from time to time, so I was certain it was true. You didn't say anything too interesting, just mostly repeated what Greene had said or what I said to you. Back then, your voice wasn't so great, neither, so some of it barely sounded like the English language. I'll get to that a little later, too. At first, I just had you around as a pet, you know; when you're already crazy and you get rich, a talking, copy-cat monkey is just about the chicest thing you could own. And I loved how much you pissed people off, jumping around on my shoulders and chattering away.

As time went by, it was evident that you weren't just copying me any more. You formed thoughts. I got to thinking that it would be a good investment to get you some education. First, I had your vocal chords worked on, though. You went through several dangerous, maverick surgeries. One time you got such a bad infection in your throat, I was so worried you weren't going to make it. It was the first thing in a long time that broke my mind out of Quark."

He paused for a moment, glancing out of the window at a zeppelin that had appeared in smoky night sky.

"After your surgeries, I had a lady come in and teach you how to read. That was the last person I ever trusted with your education because right after she had you exactly where she wanted you, language-wise and on my dime, she tried to make off with you. Thank God the cops caught her at the border or who knows what you would have been doing now! Probably talking from a cage in some sultan's lair or something. Definitely nothing as interesting as working for me, that's for damn sure."

Jenny nodded, silently acknowledging for the first time that although Donovan worked her hard (maybe as hard as he worked himself) he didn't treat her like a novelty act.

"I don't know how much you remember, but over the course of the next few years you grew more and more competent, maturing into the fine young lady you are today."

"Ain't so young anymore," she said, half-smiling.

"You and me both, m'dear," he agreed, nodding. She reached out to touch the stitches on his cheek.

"I'm…I'm sorry about that," she said.

"I'm sorry I had to stick you in a cage but you scared the living daylights out of me! You're quite a wild, savage beast, aren't you?"

"When I want to be." She climbed up to her familiar place on his shoulder. "I still don't know what I really am."

"I guess you're just Jenny," he answered. She flicked her tail thoughtfully.

"Who named me Jenny, anyways? It sounds like a dumb monkey name!"

"I think Dr. Greene named you, but you should be thankful; the way I was back then, I probably would have named you 'Opium Cloud' or something equally poetic."


End file.
